


Wrong

by the_ocean_burned



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Iwa is protective, Mentions of Anxiety, Sad Oikawa Tooru, idek, iwa just has a very pessimistic and very graphic imagination so idk, omg that's actually a tag, physical injury, slightly graphic violence?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8047951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ocean_burned/pseuds/the_ocean_burned
Summary: Something was wrong.Something was very, very wrong.Something was always wrong when Oikawa wouldn't pick up his phone.





	Wrong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> My Good Bean Friend gave me a prompt through Tumblr and this is the result. I don't even know anymore have fun I think it's angsty.

Something was wrong.

Something was very, very wrong.

Something was always wrong when Oikawa wouldn’t pick up his phone.

He hadn’t answered his phone in thirteen hours, forty seven minutes, and twenty seconds.

Yes, Iwaizumi was counting.

He had been counting since practice had ended the evening before at five P.M. Oikawa had flashed his pretty smile and said _“I’ll clean up, Iwa-chan! You head home; I’m just going to stay for another hour or so.”_

Iwaizumi had believed him. Perhaps it had been a foolish response, but why wouldn’t he have? It was normal. Oikawa always stayed behind for a while and honed his serve. It wasn’t exactly the healthiest of habits, especially not when his knee had been steadily worsening over the last couple months, but Iwaizumi knew that if he tried to stop Oikawa then he would just do it anyway. Such were the hazards of having the most stubborn boyfriend on the planet. Instead of fighting it, Iwaizumi allowed the extra training, but on one condition: when he finished, he would call Iwaizumi. Oikawa had agreed and he had kept his promise.

Except that night, he hadn’t called. Iwaizumi had waited for two hours, then three, then four, and there had never been a call. Iwaizumi lost patience after three hours, began to worry at three and a half, and then broken and called Oikawa after four. Oikawa didn’t pick up.

 _He’s just cleaning up,_ Iwaizumi tried to convince himself. _He’s got his arms full and can’t answer the phone right now._

Another hour passed; Iwaizumi called a second time. Oikawa didn’t pick up. Another hour. Oikawa didn’t pick up. By then Iwaizumi was pacing, half-concerned that he would walk a path straight through the floor of his bedroom and fall through the living room ceiling.

 _His phoned died,_ Iwaizumi told himself. _He’ll call once he it charges._

By midnight, Iwaizumi had left twenty voice mails and sent nearly a hundred texts. His eyes were blurring with tiredness and his bed was looking inviting but there was Oikawa wasn’t answering him and Iwaizumi didn’t know why. He owed it to his boyfriend keep himself awake in case Oikawa called and needed help. A hundred and one worst-case scenarios were running rampant circles through Iwaizumi’s thoughts and he quickly shut them down. Oikawa had not gotten kidnapped or murdered or tortured violently. He was _fine._

At least, that was what Iwaizumi was still telling himself when he fell asleep at his desk.

He awoke at four in the morning with his cheek stuck to a page of his open textbook and no new messages from Oikawa. There was one from Oikawa’s sister, though: _Did Tooru stay over with you? He didn’t come home last night._

That didn’t bode well. Even if Oikawa hadn’t called Iwaizumi because he was being an ass or he had forgotten or whatever his reason would have been, he would have gone home. He wouldn’t have left his family hanging as to whether or not he was safe under any condition. He would never intentionally make people worry like that; it went against every one of his secretive instincts. If there was anything that Iwaizumi hated about Oikawa it was that he never told anyone when his emotions were fucking him over or his knee acted up until it was too late to do anything about it – i.e., days after the fact. Not telling his family that he was safe was so completely out of character for Oikawa that Iwaizumi almost panicked right there.

After taking a moment to calm down and get himself together – Oikawa was constantly getting on Iwaizumi about how unhealthy it was to quash his feelings like that but _damn it_ now was not the time for emotions – Iwaizumi shoved his phone in his pocket without responding to the message. There was no point in concerning anyone else until he was certain that there was actually anything to worry about. For all he knew, Oikawa had just been enough of an idiot to overwork himself and passed out in the gym.

The walk to Aoba Johsai was hellish and it seemed eternal. Every step felt shorter and slower than the previous one. At this point, all Iwaizumi wanted was to know what was going on with Oikawa; whether he was okay or not. Preferably he would be just fine, but as long as Iwaizumi knew what to feel – hopeful, angry, worried – and whether vomiting or crying would be the better option, he would probably feel a little better.

When Iwaizumi reached the gym, he found the door unlocked and all the lights inside on. That was also a worrying sign. At four thirty in the morning, everything should have been dead quiet. From the muffled noise coming from inside the gym, though, there was someone there.

Iwaizumi’s heart rate doubled. Logically he knew it was probably just Oikawa, but there was another part of him that thought that maybe it was someone who had hurt Oikawa. He shook that idea from his mind immediately.

It was Oikawa, but he wasn’t okay. Last Iwaizumi checked, curled up on the floor surrounded by volleyballs and sobbing didn’t qualify as ‘okay.’

For a moment, Iwaizumi just stood there, not sure what an appropriate response would be; then he got himself back together and tapped his knuckles against the door. Oikawa jumped and sniffled, hastily wiping at his cheeks before turning around. He was smiling, bright and wide, but the red eyes and the tear tracks spoke more truthfully.

“H-hey, Iwa… I’ll clean up, I promise. Sorry that I didn’t call you!” Oikawa stood shakily and started toward the locker room, probably to hide from Iwaizumi. He was limping, favoring his injured knee.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi had meant for the words to be harsh, angry, or at the very least annoyed, but he sounded concerned. He couldn’t find it in him to care at the moment.

To his credit, Oikawa stopped walking, though he didn’t turn around. Iwaizumi walked up and set a hand on Oikawa’s shoulder, hating it when he flinched.

“Oikawa,” he murmured, gently tugging on Oikawa’s shoulder until he turned to face him. “What happened?”

Oikawa looked like he was going to cry again. “Nothing happened, Iwaizumi. I’m fine, honestly.”

Even as he spoke with his falsely bright voice and his falsely bright smile, Oikawa’s arms came up to wrap insecurely around himself. It was an unconscious action – he never intentionally showed any sort of weakness around  anyone he gave a damn about, due to his ever-infuriating habit of trying not to make them worry – and it worried Iwaizumi almost as much as his lack of response the night before.

“Bullshit. You didn’t pick up your phone and you didn’t go home; you were crying your eyes out a few minutes ago. Not to mention the fact that you’re limping. Sit your ass down and explain.”

Iwaizumi fixed Oikawa with a firm stare until Oikawa sighed and sat. Glad that Oikawa was, for once, not being stubborn, Iwaizumi sat in front of him, close enough that their knees brushed.

Iwaizumi let Oikawa collect himself for a few moments before repeating his query, more gently this time. “What happened?”

Oikawa ran his hands over his face and then dropped them to rest in his lap. “I think I fucked up.”

Raising his eyebrows silently, Iwaizumi prompted Oikawa to elaborate. After four more shaky, slow breaths, Oikawa did.

“My knee gave out on me earlier.”

The panic was back, curling in Iwaizumi’s stomach like a vicious and cruel sort of snake. “What?”

Oikawa waved a hand flippantly to dispel Iwaizumi’s concern; it didn’t work. He still wouldn’t meet Iwaizumi’s gaze. “I jumped too far or – or landed too hard or something and it just… collapsed. I couldn’t use it at all and I ended up falling asleep. That’s why I didn’t call you. I’m sorry.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t find it in himself to be angry, mostly because he knew that _falling asleep_ was Oikawa’s way of saying _cried myself to sleep due to the sudden, harsh, and irrational nosedive performed once more by my self-confidence._ Oikawa was digging his fingernails into his palms, probably to try to keep himself from completely falling apart. All of a sudden Iwaizumi felt like punching Oikawa, hating Oikawa’s endless stubbornness. No matter how much he was hurting, Oikawa would always pretend to be fine and Iwaizumi despised it more than anything else. He couldn’t help if he was completely and utterly unaware of what was going on.

Leaning forward and taking Oikawa’s hands in his own, Iwaizumi slowly shook his head. After gathering his thoughts, he murmured, “Don’t apologize, Shittykawa. You shouldn’t overwork yourself. This is what happens.”

Apparently Iwaizumi had chosen his words wrong because Oikawa’s gaze turned stone cold and he ripped his fingers from Iwaizumi’s grasp. “Don’t give me that. I’m not going to stop the extra practicing whether you want me to or not.”

Iwaizumi huffed, exasperated, and shook his head. “That isn’t—”

“That _is_ what you were going to say! You were going to use this as another point in your argument against me staying after. I’m not going to stop. I _need_ the extra practice, Iwaizumi, I—”

“No,” Iwaizumi interrupted. “You do not need the extra practice. You think you do, but you don’t.”

Oikawa gawked at him for a moment, the closed his eyes and sighed. “You don’t understand, Iwa-chan. If I don’t train I’ll fall behind the rest of the team and I’ll end up on the bench.”

Iwaizumi sighed as well and forced himself to soften his demeanor. The last thing he needed was to give Oikawa the impression that he was unsympathetic. “I understand that you don’t want to get benched, but honestly. If you overwork yourself and fuck up your knee, you’ll end up on the bench permanently, Tooru. If you push yourself too far, you might not be able to play again.”

Oikawa began to cry. Iwaizumi couldn’t fathom what he had done to cause such a reaction; maybe it had been the use of Oikawa’s given name. Whatever it had been, Iwaizumi hadn’t meant to make Oikawa cry.

“I-I’m sorry,” hiccupped Oikawa. “I just – I don’t want to get left behind.”

Iwaizumi shushed Oikawa and gently pulled him into a hug. “I know. You won’t be. You train harder than anyone else during practice, and you stay longer than the rest of us. You won’t get left behind. Just take it a little easier, okay?”

Oikawa nodded, sniffling as he buried his face into Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi ran his fingers through Oikawa’s hair, sighing a little; he tilted his head down and pressed a light kiss to Oikawa’s temple. This wasn’t one of the thousand situations he had imagined, though he supposed it was better than having found out that Oikawa’s mutilated corpse lying in a puddle of its own cooling blood.

After fifteen or so minutes of standing there, Oikawa had calmed down, so Iwaizumi released him and brushed away his tears. “Let’s clean up now and you and I are taking the rest of the day off. No training.”

Oikawa started to protest, but he must’ve been able to tell that he had scared Iwaizumi out of his wits; he just smiled, minute and honest. “Okay.”


End file.
